Bookworm and Neville the Chosen One
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: I wrote this story quickly because I wanted to depict Neville as the Chosen One, he and Hermione Granger becoming friends, and eventually leading to something more. It is really a series of one-shots set on the fall journey on the Hogwarts Express. Please, enjoy!
1. First Year

**First Year**

Neville Longbottom tried to avoid getting stepped on, and ignore the confused and sometimes gawking looks from his peers, as he scrambled down the train hallway. Sure, by the lightning scar on his forehead, he was apparently the Boy Who Lived. And yet, he couldn't keep his pet toad in his grasp for ten minutes! He wondered if anyone would try to help him locate Trevor. If they didn't stare at him dumbly first, star-struck by his fame, they might jeer at his unbecoming incompetence. On his hands and knees, he certainly didn't look like a Dark Wizard killer or a hero.

All at once, he bumped into a pair of white stockings - jarring, as most people who had encountered him were able to get out of his way. "Are you looking for something?" the voice attached to the stockings asked.

Neville looked up. A girl - who appeared to be a first year like himself - stared down at him with a kind face. She had frizzy brown hair and even deeper brown eyes. She drew about even with him in height. Also striking about her was how she didn't seem fazed by whose presence she was in. Strong and determined.

"My... toad," Neville flushed. "He hopped right out of my arms before I could even find a compartment."

"Not to worry," the girl prissily took charge. "I'll help you look for him." She laughed as she helped him to his feet. "But you won't get very far crawling." Then she peered closer, getting a good look at him. "Holy cricket... you're Neville Longbottom! I'm Hermione Granger." She stuck out a hand and the pair shook. Side by side, they proceeded up the train corridor, until at last, they came upon a green toad sequestered against one sliding glass compartment door. With the Trolley Lady coming up in the other direction, the animal was sufficiently cornered so that Neville could trap him.

"Gotcha!"

By this time, the corridor was empty, with everyone having found and filled a compartment. Neville and Hermione tried several before two redheads - they looked to be identical twins - stuck their heads out of one and beckoned to the pair of first years.

"Hey! You lot! You can bunk with us!"

Appreciative that two older students would care to help them, Hermione and Neville joined the twins in their compartment. Everyone promptly introduced themselves.

"Fred and George Weasley. This room is all yours for right now. We have some fun to do," Fred informed.

"But if you have any questions, just come to us," George winked. And the duo scampered off; Hermione noted the Exploding Snap cartridges in their hands.

Neville and Hermione sat across from each other, smiling in relief at having found accommodations... and a friend.

"Hungry, are you?" the girl asked.

Neville grinned. "Starving."


	2. Second Year

**Second Year**

Hermione and Neville looked at each other, then back at the platform gateway where Mrs. Weasley had just disappeared. After befriending Fred and George the previous year, their mother had invited Hermione and Neville to stay with her family at the Burrow over the summer. She was a widow, with five sons, her husband having been killed along with the Potters and some other victims twelve years earlier during Voldemort's reign of terror.

"Let's go," Neville nodded. The two friends broke into a run, the barrier getting closer and closer... they would be through in a moment -

CRASH! Neville went headlong into the solid barrier, flipping over his trolley before Hermione crashed into him from behind.

"OI! What's going on here?" a Muggle conductor bellowed.

"Lost control of the trolley," Neville lied. He turned to his best friend. "Why can't we get through?" They began slapping at the stone.

"The gateway's sealed itself for some reason," Hermione frowned, and Neville knew her brain was going a mile a minute, trying to solve the puzzle.

The clock chimed. "The train leaves at exactly 11:00! We've _missed_ it!"

"Neville... if we can't get through... maybe Mrs. Weasley can't get back," Hermione reasoned.

Neville tried not to panic. "Maybe we should just go and wait by the car."

And that's when Hermione got her brilliant idea, centered around the blue Ford Anglia that could fly. "The _car_...!"

* * *

Moments later, the two preteens were taking off into the skies in the Weasley family car, activating the Invisibility Booster to conceal their movements. Following the train tracks and the scarlet blur of the Hogwarts Express, Neville and Hermione had plenty of time to talk.

"Did you have a lot of friends growing up?" Neville asked. He knew Hermione was an only child, the daughter of Muggle dentists.

Hermione bit her lip. "No," she admitted sadly. "The other kids in my primary school found me odd, because I really liked books and learning. Even with all the places a book could take me... it got rather lonely."

Neville dared to place a sympathetic hand on Hermione's knee. "I'm sorry. You've got a friend in me."

Hermione looked from his hand to his face and smiled. "I know."


	3. Third Year

**Third Year**

Even with their unusual traveling arrangements from the previous year, Hermione and Neville had by now gotten their journey to Hogwarts down to a science. Neville and his Gran would meet the Grangers outside of King's Cross, and Hermione and Neville would go through the barrier to Platform 9 3/4s together. Moving quickly, they would commandeer the first empty compartment they could find and lay all their stuff around. Both the Chosen One and the Greatest Witch of Her Age agreed that they were most comfortable just being alone. Sometimes they talked all the hours to the castle. Sometimes they passed the trip in companionable silence, saying nothing at all.

This year, however, the pair discovered that the emptiest compartment there was housed another traveler - an adult man in threadbare clothes, fast asleep in one corner.

"Who's that?" Neville scrutinized.

"Professor R.J. Lupin," Hermione replied.

"You know everything!" Neville gaped in admiration. "How is it you know everything?"

"It's on the suitcase, Neville," Hermione huffed.

A heavy rain was falling, which dominated most of the ride. Halfway along the train tressle bridge, the locomotive all at once began to slow. Glancing up from her book, Hermione looked around.

"Why are we stopping? We can't be there yet..."

Neville cautiously approached the sliding glass compartment door... which he was startled to discover had begun to fog over. And even get frozen with ice!

All at once, the door burst open and an amorphous, black thing loomed over the Boy Who Lived. Neville started to feel very cold. Fear gripped his heart like a noose. Voldemort was going to return... and track him down...

Hermione would be harmed... he would never see her again...

Then, just as suddenly, a blinding flash of white light sent the dark thing in deep retreat. That was the last thing Neville saw before he went under...

* * *

When Neville came to, the Professor was standing over him, pushing a Chocolate Frog into his hand. Hermione was right by her best friend's side, concern etched in every one of her features.

"Eat this; it'll help," Lupin encouraged.


	4. Fourth Year

**Fourth Year**

When Hermione and Neville had been informed of the new policy to leave their luggage on the platform to be automatically loaded, they were thrilled. The friends made sure to group their bags together and ensure that they were stored in the same compartment.

But when Hermione and Neville found their compartment, they were dismayed to discover that it was spread over most of the room, so that only a single swath of the plush seats was visible.

Neville, being a gentleman, had a fit of gallantry and insisted that Hermione take the one bit of seat.

"Don't be ridiculous, Neville!" Hermione scolded. "You're exhausted from the Quidditch World Cup! Sit there!" And she pushed him into the seat, before beginning to look for a bit of uncovered floor space for herself and her book.

"Oh no, you don't!" And before Neville realized the implications of what he was doing, he pulled Hermione onto his lap. She looked taken aback, but didn't object, slowly adjusting herself so as to be comfortable in his lap. "Thank you, Neville." Opening her book to the cornered page, she began to read. But after a moment, she paused and craned around to stare at Neville, her face deeply contemplative.

"Why are you so good to me?'

Neville blinked, as if the answer was obvious. "You're my girl."

Hermione smiled affectionately, deeply touched. "I'll always be your girl."


	5. Fifth Year

**Fifth Year**

Neville observed Hermione as she scribbled down on a scrap of parchment. A letter to someone. Neville had a feeling he knew who it was.

While Neville had been competing as one of the two Hogwarts champions in the Triwizard Tournament the previous year, the Durmstrang Champion - Quiddtich star Viktor Krum - had taken a liking to Hermione. He had asked her to the Yule Ball, and Hermione had accepted. The arrangement had strangely bothered Neville, even more so now that Hermione had developed a habit of writing to the older man. Not that Neville had much to complain about, at least where the Ball was concerned. It had been his own damn fault that he had not asked his best friend quickly enough, his heart set on nabbing a date with another girl. By the time he had considered asking Hermione, and had even plucked up the courage to, she explained that she was already going with someone. Had he been... jealous? Neville wasn't sure.

The scratching of Hermione's quill halted as she suddenly remembered something. Neville could tell by the way her features lit up. He loved her smile when it got like that - especially now that she had magically altered her teeth, scaling them down in size. But he had always loved her smile. The way her hair framed her round, pretty face when it was down in ringlets. How her brow creased when she was working out a mental puzzle.

"I forgot to tell you! Did you know that Ernie McMillan and Hannah Abbott are engaged? They seem awfully young, don't you think?"

Neville shrugged. "We'll be out of school in three short years. If they're sure about each other, they're sure." A brief lapse of silence as Hermione went back to her letter.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?" she trilled without looking up.

"Have you ever wanted to be married?"

She raised her eyes to him, surprised at the question, before a teasing smile broke out on her face. "Why, Neville Longbottom, you're not proposing to me, are you?"

"No, not that!" Neville kicked himself for how quickly he denied it, even if he knew his best mate was only teasing. "I was just wondering: could you ever see yourself being married? Someday?"

Hermione frowned in deep thought, setting her quill down. "I suppose I could," she admitted at last. "If I do marry, I'd want it to be for love - _that's_ obvious. Married to someone who is my equal. Who understands me. Who would let me pursue a career first. And then, if the subject of... children ever came up... you know, babies..." she shrugged. "We'd talk about it."

Neville couldn't help but smile. There was classic Hermione. The Hermione he knew and admired - always ready to better herself and pursue what she wanted. Not what anybody else wanted for her. She should be so free to make her own choices, being the Greatest Witch of her generation and all. "I think that sounds like an excellent plan, Hermione."


	6. Sixth Year

**Sixth Year**

When Hermione and Neville initially arrived at their own compartment on the train, all Neville wanted to do was sleep. It had been a long year, the previous school term - defending Hogwarts from domestic enemies and fighting Voldemort at the Ministry.

But there was something about Hermione's gentle, logical voice that could put Neville at just as much ease as any sleep. They talked for at least an hour, uninterrupted, until the glass door to their compartment slid open.

A dark-haired Ravenclaw girl was standing in the doorway with several female classmates giggling behind her. Neville recognized her: Romilda Vane. She had been a member of his DA.

"Why don't you come and share a compartment with us, Neville?" Romilda flirted. "You don't always have to sit with _her_ ," and she didn't hide the look of disdain she threw Hermione's way.

"She's my best mate," Neville replied coolly. "Now, if you'll excuse us..." he waved the gaggle of girls away. Disappointed at being rejected, Romilda stalked away, leaving the glass door slightly ajar.

Hermione huffed in frustration. "They're only interested in you because they think you're the Chosen One!" she reminded her best friend.

"I know that," Neville countered. "I'd just prefer to spend my time with someone of substance, like you!"

Hermione shook her head with an amused smirk, even if Neville detected something in her eyes that he didn't like: pain. "Don't make so much of me, Neville. I can't hoard you forever. If you want to hang out with that lot, it's fine..."

She got up to exit the compartment. Suddenly, the glass door slid in place by itself with magic and locked. Hermione spun around, surprised to see Neville standing with his wand pointed at the door, before he stalked closer. Standing right before her, Neville slid an arm about Hermione's waist and pulled her close against his body. Hermione's breath hitched, her eyes wide with confusion.

"Neville, what are you doing?"

Never more determined about anything else in his life, Neville bent towards her.

"Nevill- Mmmm!" Hermione's voice died into a squeak, as Neville's lips fiercely met hers, cutting her off with a searing, passionate kiss.

Neville's free hand quickly fell into Hermione's brown curls, keeping her mouth mashed to his. After a moment to wrap her head around the fact that Neville Longbottom, her best friend, was openly snogging her, Hermione felt her eyes close in blissful pleasure. Her soft fingers framing his face, she dared to yank Neville closer with a triumphant, shuddering groan, deepening the kiss. She opened her mouth to him, her lips parting so that Neville's tongue slithered effortlessly down her throat. "Hmmm..."

As the couple continued to kiss, Hermione felt Neville's hand dip lower to caress her bum through her tight jeans, feeling her up. Squeezing, groping the curvy, accentuated flesh there, Hermione responded by gallingly raising her leg to hook her thigh around Neville's torso. Though she would never admit it, she had done some light reading on this sort of physical intimacy, deciding on what she liked.

And Hermione liked what Neville was doing to her. Very much. So much so, that she suddenly felt the burning desire to have sex with him.

Lazily draping her arms about Neville's neck and kissing him back, Hermione felt him suddenly push her up against the glass door of the compartment, the back of her head nearly hitting the panes. His pelvis locked against her center, grinding up against her hips. With an aroused moan, Hermione boldly cupped Neville's straining erection through his trousers.

At the same time that Neville cradled Hermione's one breast in a calloused palm and squeezed it.

The harmonizing moment made Neville and Hermione break apart, their arms still around each other, gasping, their eyes wide. For the first time, they seemed to become aware of the very compromising, very sexual position they were in. Did they dare?

They did, for Neville now lifted Hermione off her feet, hoisting her up so that she climbed his body like a tree. Kissing feverishly, Neville and Hermione resumed their romancing, as the Chosen One threw the Greatest Witch down onto the plush seats and mounted her, straddling her waist.

Pulling out of the kiss, Hermione gasped out a Warding Charm. "Salvio Hexia..." The compartment was now sealed. "Obscuria!" The compartment glass fogged over. Finally, Hermione twirled her wand around her belly in one last charm. Contraception.

Eyes locked, Hermione slowly spread her legs to nestle Neville between them, her knees bent and apart. Neville murmured a spell of his own that made all their clothes fall away, piled into neat heaps on the floor.

Slowly, gently, Neville pushed himself into Hermione. Their unification made the young witch gasp, yelp in pain, and her eyes pricked with tears. Neville lovingly kissed her to help her through the discomfort. Hermione knew that the first time for any woman was going to hurt, but to his credit, Neville paused.

"Don't stop..." she whispered.

Neville tenderly began to work up a rhythm, thrusting in and out, until pleasure began to replace initial pain. All the while, he lovingly kissed Hermione's lips, before moving onto every inch of her face and then working down to her collarbone, and finally each breast with their perky, pink, erect nipples.

"You're beautiful," Neville crooned in awe. "Don't let anyone tell you different."

Hermione flushed rogue, her very kissed lips curling into a smile of ecstasy, her eyes fluttering shut. "Ohhhhh... Neville... please... more, more... make love to me..." she hummed.

Neville did as she bid, until soon he was pounding into Hermione with vigor. Hermione mewled and wriggled and thrashed beneath him, her whimpers soon growing louder until they were wails:

"Uhhhhh... OHHHHHH! Yes, Neville, yes! Bloody hell, Merlin's pants, that's so good!"

Neville grinned tightly through the exertion. "I love your dirty little mouth, love. I just want to kiss it right off!"

Hermione purred. "Neville, please! I'm... I'm gonna... cum..."

"Fuck, Hermione, I love you! So much!"

Hermione's whole form shuddered violently, until at last she seized and with a scream - "NEVILLE!" - she came all over him.

Neville finished soon after her, as he ejaculated his seed deep within his true love, collapsing in exhaustion on top of Hermione, but not enough to crush her. Neither noticed a stunned Romilda Vane watching them through an unfogged hole in the glass door pane, where Hermione's head had once been. Also, embarrassingly, the new lovers had not thought to put up a Silencing Charm, and only hoped the whole train hadn't heard their lovemaking. But even if that was the case, Neville and Hermione didn't care.

Neville and Hermione lay together naked for a while, Hermione blushing like a smitten schoolgirl as they cuddled and kissed. They were both still a little in shock after coupling in such a bloody brilliant shag, the sexual tension between them finally broken.

"Will you go out with me, Hermione?" Neville asked, in a voice unusually shy for the Boy Who Lived. Hermione kissed him deeply in answer.

"Yes, Neville. I will."


	7. Epilogue - 21 Years Later

**Epilogue - 21 Years Later**

The young mother stood on the steamy train platform in a cream-colored pantsuit, her sleek hair in a bun as she looked over the little dark-haired girl one last time. "Bag," she checked off. "Jumper," zipping it tight. Suddenly overcome, Hermione pulled her daughter into a hug and kissed her head. "I'm gonna miss you..." Nearby, Neville stood proudly with their son.

Hermione and Neville had fallen more deeply in love over their sixth year as Voldemort's power grew. During what would have been their seventh and final year at Hogwarts, the pair had disappeared into the wilderness to track down and destroy Voldemort's Horcruxes.

Neville finally defeated the Dark Lord once and for all in a climactic battle. Exhausted and relieved at just being together, Hermione and Neville got married in a private ceremony at the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley had insisted on hosting the wedding, confessing that she loved Neville and Hermione like a son and daughter. Overwhelmed, and having lost her own parents at the hands of Death Eaters, Hermione had tearfully promised to give Mrs. Weasley grandbabies. Eventually, Hermione fell pregnant, and gave birth to a daughter, Molly, named after the Weasley matriarch. A son, Frank (named after Neville's dead father) followed two years later. Neville only wished that his Gran had lived to see his children. To see Hermione become his wife.

After the war, Hermione took a position in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Neville entered the Auror Department, and was quickly on his way to becoming its Head Commander. The husband and wife team managed to juggle both work and family, complementing each other well. Many of their friends had been thrilled when their wedding had been announced, expressing that they liked and approved of the match. Hermione and Neville suited one another. And besides, friends-to-lovers was always the most romantic of love stories.

"You promise I'll get to visit Grandma Weasley at Christmas?" Molly was asking her father.

"Of course," Neville chuckled. He kissed Molly's forehead. "Safe ride."

The train whistle blew and hugging her parents one last time, Molly clambered aboard. "Bye, Mummy! Bye, Daddy!"

"Bye, kid," Neville murmured, waving until the steamer was out of sight.

"She'll be all right," Hermione said gently.

With a smile, Neville turned to her and just touched the lightning scar on his forehead.

"I know she will." He pecked his wife's lips chastely in a tender kiss. "I love you, my best girl."

Hermione beamed. "I know. I love you, too."

The scar had not bothered Neville for nearly twenty years. All was well.


End file.
